


Oh, How I Love You So

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked, and his voice sounded concerned. When Stiles chanced a glance up, his brows were pulled down low over his eyes, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout.Stiles nodded and told himself to grow the fuck up—it wasn’t like any of this was new—and stood. He turned to face his locker, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear them. Stupid allergies he told himself, forcing his lips up into a smile before he turned around.





	Oh, How I Love You So

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadNickie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadNickie/gifts).



> your prompts were awesome, this was so fun to write!

Stiles looked down, forcing himself to stare at his own hands even as he felt heat bloom along his cheeks. He tried his best to think of something that wasn’t arousing—his dad naked, the way spit flew from Finstock’s mouth as he yelled,  _ Greenberg _ —and not the way water was slowly sliding down his best friend’s back, droplets gliding down his skin as Scott towelled through his hair, his boxers sitting low enough on his hips that Stiles could see the dimple above his ass that he wanted to  _ bite _ and _ — _

Nope. Not thinking about that. Stiles was  _ so _ not thinking about that. He was definitely not thinking about how hot Scott was, or how much Stiles wanted him, wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him, how much he wanted to  _ love _ him. He wasn’t thinking about how much it hurt, every time Scott said  _ “I love you, buddy”  _ and pulled Stiles into his side, or how the words hurt every time he said them back.

He wasn’t thinking about all the things he would never have, all the things he wanted with Scott that Scott would never want with him.

Stiles stared at his hands, watching the way his fingers were picking at the skin of his cuticle, leaving it an angry red. He was stupid, so stupid, for letting himself stare, for  _ forgetting _ that he wasn’t allowed to look. Scott wasn’t his and would never be his, and Stiles was stupid for getting too distracted by the play of muscle under Scott’s skin that he let himself watch.

God, he was stupid for even  _ looking _ in the first place, because he knew that Scott would never like him like that, that he would never want Stiles in all the ways that Stiles wanted him. He picked off a hangnail, letting the skin fall to the change room floor as he closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. His eyes stung but he ignored the feeling, digging his nails into his palm to distract himself.

“Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked, and his voice sounded concerned. When Stiles chanced a glance up, his brows were pulled down low over his eyes, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. 

Stiles nodded and told himself to grow the fuck up—it wasn’t like any of this was  _ new _ —and stood. He turned to face his locker, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear them.  _ Stupid allergies _ he told himself, forcing his lips up into a smile before he turned around.

“Of course, man. Wanna get pizza?”

Scott’s smile was like  _ sunshine _ and it burned Stiles’ chests with the way it made his heart ache. Still, he smiled back, forcing out a laugh that sounded artificial in his ears, and grabbed his keys from the bench beside him. He was fine. 

* * *

“You know, I never saw it before.”

Stiles startled, dropping his fork as he jumped back in his seat, his heart rate doubling. He looked up to find, of all people, Lydia Martin standing in front of his cafeteria table. When Stiles looked around, he didn’t see any of the other popular kids watching with pointed fingers as they laughed. Really, he had no idea what she was doing at his table, considering she had never before approached him.

Lydia sat down across from him, prim and polished and perfect, flawless skin and flawless hair wrapped up in a nicely dressed package. She crossed her leg, sitting up straight, and Stiles was sure a book would balance on the top of her head. 

“Uh. What?”

“Close your mouth,” Lydia told him, and he did, jaw clicking closed automatically.

They sat in silence for a long moment, Lydia watching him as he stared right back, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Finally, he caved and asked, “So, was there something you needed from me?”

“The way you watch him,” Lydia said as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “You’ve never watched me like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles said instantly, biting out the words harshly. Lydia didn’t flinch, though she did raise a groomed brow. She looked unimpressed, and Stiles’ chest felt too tight.

“I’m only saying this because my horoscope said it was a good day to put out positive energy,” Lydia’s voice held a fake tilt, one that meant she was pretending to be vapid. For a moment, Stiles was irrationally angry at the world for making such a brilliant girl feel like she needed to hide her potential behind her looks. “But Scott stares at you, every time you look away.”

Stiles stared at her, her eyes just as sharp as his own, though he said nothing. His heart was beating double in his chest and he could feel sweat bead along his brow. Still, he didn’t look away, holding her eyes even as fear climbed up his throat and made it nearly impossible to breathe. Lydia didn’t look away until he nodded, and then she stood, not sparing another glance in his direction as she walked away. 

He couldn’t breathe. A nauseous sort of anxiety settled in his stomach, fear swirling with his uncertainty. Someone knew. Someone—someone  _ knew _ . Someone who wasn’t even friends with them, not really, saw and figured it out, figured out how he felt. Stiles felt like the world was crashing down around him and he curled his shoulders forward, trying to make himself as small as possible. It felt too much like eyes were on him, with his secret out there, exposed in a way he would have never,  _ never _ expected it to be. 

Even as he watched her walk away, it still felt like he couldn't  _ breathe _ . 

* * *

Stiles shifted on the bed, his back rigid as he tried to get comfortable in the small space he had given himself. He felt uncomfortable, more uncomfortable that he had ever before felt in Scott’s presence. Holding himself tightly, he kept his arms tucked against his sides, afraid of touching Scott even accidentally. His skin felt too tight, and his heartbeat stuttered every time Scott breathed beside him.

He had never wanted to go home so bad before, but he hadn’t been able to say no to the sleepover when Scott asked him, lips pulled down in a frown and pretty eyes shining. Rather, he had come over when Scott asked, and he had played videos games and ate pizza and pretended like everything was okay, pretended that he wasn’t terrified that somehow Scott would see through him, and he’d  _ know  _ too, and everything would be over. 

“Are you still awake?” Scott whisper-asked, and Stiles’ body tensed up even further, his breath getting caught up in his throat. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, voice just as soft. Scott shifted on the bed but Stiles didn’t look over, not until Scott whispered his name. He dropped his head to the side, not daring to move his body, and he sucked in a sharp breath when he found Scott much closer than he had been. 

“Why were you avoiding me?” Scott asked, his lips pulling down in the same pout that had Stiles bending to his will every time, the pout he’d never been able to say no to. 

“I don’t want to tell you,” Stiles said, because that was as much of the truth as he was ready to give. He didn’t like lying to Scott, even if he sometimes had to, and Stiles was hoping he would drop it. 

Scott shifted closer, bringing a hand in between them and laying it flat on the bed. Stiles stared at it, anything other than looking up at Scott was so close,  _ too close _ , close enough that Stiles couldn’t even think. 

He was beautiful. Stiles had always thought so, ever since they were four and Scott told him that they were going to be friends forever and ever. He had thought so nearly every minute since and it had only gotten worse over the years. Stiles was attracted to Scott, and seeing him like this—laying in his bed, hair dishevelled from moving about, the blanket slipping down to show off his bare chest—caused Stiles’ heart to speed up as sweat gathered on his palms. 

“I miss you,” Scott told him, and Stiles rolled onto his side. He ignored how close they were, closer than they’d been in years, and he looked into his best friend’s eyes and felt like he was falling. 

“I’m right here,” Stiles said, unable to say anything else, words getting tangled up with his heavy tongue. 

“I know,” Scott said, and he shifted even closer, close enough that their knees bumped together and Stiles could feel Scott's breath against his nose. “But I miss you.”

“Please,” Stiles said, voice cracking as his eyes burned. 

Scott reached for him, his hand feeling warm enough to burn where it rested on his hip. All Stiles could think about was how close they were, how he could smell the bag of Doritos they had shared earlier clinging to Scott’s breath, how deep his eyes looked in the dark room. He wanted to say more, wanted to ask what was going on, but he was afraid, afraid that somehow he would break the charged silence they had fallen into. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Stiles whispered, but the word was lost to Scott’s lips as he leaned in the last breath. 

The kiss was so gentle it hurt, and it felt like everything Stiles had never before let himself hope for. Their lips slid together easily, like it was something they had always done, and Stiles let Scott urge him forward until they were pressed together. Scott was so warm, and the feeling of their bare chests rubbing together was enough to have Stiles moan, a helpless noise pulled from the back of his throat. He reached out, grabbing at whatever skin he could reach, sliding a leg between Scott’s to get as close as possible. 

“I love you,” the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them, tasting like Scott’s mouth and his own desperation. 

Scott pulled back and coughed, once, then again, sucking in a laboured breath of air. His eyes went wide and then Stiles jumped up, rushing to where his backpack was and unzipping the front pocket with fingers that shook. He could still hear Scott struggling to breathe, his desperate attempts to suck in air making Stiles’ heart race no matter how many times this had happened before. 

He didn’t think before he clamoured into Scott’s lap, cupping his jaw and leaning his head back to press the mouth of the inhaler to Scott’s lips. He pushed down and Scott breathed in, watching Stiles’ lips as they both silently counted to ten. Scott breathed out in a rush, slumping back against the headboard. Stiles flushed when Scott’s hands settled on his thighs, but he didn’t move, rather settling more of his weight in Scott’s lap as he stared down at the other boy’s flushed face. 

“Sorry I ruined the mood,” Scott said, his lips pulled down into a pout. It was adorable, and Stiles’ heart felt like it was soaring inside his chest. 

“I-It’s okay! Are  _ you _ okay? You haven’t had an attack is a really long time,” Stiles asked, looking down at Scott with concern even as his hands awkwardly hovered by his sides, not sure where to put them. 

“Oh yeah, dude. I’m  _ great _ ,” Scott told him, waggling his brows and squeezing Stiles’ thighs to get his across. Stiles snorted, but he still smiled softly. “I, uh, just got a little too excited?”

Stiles laughed softly, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. “Really?”

“Uhm,  _ yeah _ ? We were totally, like, making out! You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Scott said, his smile stretching across his face. Stiles tried to smile back, but it fell flat, realizing that Scott had been excited about being kissed, not because he was being kissed by Stiles. “Making out with  _ you _ , doofus. I’ve wanted to kiss _ you _ for...well, for like forever,” 

Stiles’ cheeks went warm even as he  _ giggled _ , and he slapped his hands over his mouth as he stared down at Scott. “I didn’t make that noise!” 

Scott laughed, but it was a kind noise, and soon enough Stiles joined in, leaning down to steal a kiss even as he blushed harder, his face getting even warmer. It was easy to lose himself in the slide of their lips, feeling happy that he ever felt before.

“I love you, too,” Scott said and the words were slick with saliva when Scott pressed them to his lips. 

Stiles smiled into the kiss, something warm and bright building and building inside his chest until it was all he could feel. He said the words back, feeling it when Scott repeated them after him, a giddy smile on both their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a day, and i'm actually really happy with how it came out! 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


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